


Heels

by hannigramcracker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Heels, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Will worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannigramcracker/pseuds/hannigramcracker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal gives Will a gift and hopes that Will enjoys it as much as he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heels

**Author's Note:**

> This is for another anonymous prompt I received, asking to have Hannibal fucking Will in heels. So here we are.

“Hannibal, I'm...not sure about this.” Will admits through the heavy oak of the door he hid behind.

“I am very sure about this, Will. I'm positive you look exquisite.” Hannibal says into the crack of the door, from the hallway.

Will sighs, looking himself over in the body length mirror that hung on the wall of Hannibal's bedroom. Earlier that day, Hannibal had told Will he had a surprise for him. Will's interest had piqued, and then guilt had swelled because he had not thought to bring Hannibal a gift.

Now, here he stands, wearing Hannibal's... _gift_ and staring at himself in the mirror as though he was someone else.

His eyes travel down his bare chest to just below his hipbones, where the black lace starts. The fabric is thin and flimsy, but soft and not at all as uncomfortable as Will had expected it to be. The lace is sheer, the entire garment see-through, except for a slim bit of what Will is sure is silk or satin, right over where his cock sat, gently cupped by the material; an oddly comforting sensation.

He runs his hands over the fronts of his thighs, making sure everything is in place. He tightens one of the elastic garter straps that lay in the center of his creamy thigh. He wishes for a moment that he had spent more time in the sun in his life; his skin really is terribly pale. He slips a finger beneath the lace top of the fishnet thigh-highs Hannibal has given him and thumbs the tiny bow in the center of them. He looks up at himself in the mirror. He knows he looks ridiculous.

“Come now, little lamb, are you all dressed up now? I have one more thing for you.”

Will opens the door a crack, peeking his head out, embarrassment bringing color to his cheeks. Hannibal could see nothing more of Will than the tops of his shoulders, but Will sees all of Hannibal, and his heart swells. He is wearing slacks and a dress shirt, the top three or four buttons undone, and his hair a disheveled mess. Hannibal's state is all to Will's credit – they had been kissing before Hannibal had mentioned having something for Will. Will had been content on Hannibal's lap, wrapped in the other man's arms, rubbing against his growing arousal.

That arousal has not gone away entirely, Will notes, regardless of how much time it has taken him to change.

Hannibal hold his arm out, and Will sees he is holding a pair of black stiletto heels with red bottoms to him. “For you.”

Will's eyes nearly bulge from his head as he takes the proffered footwear. He takes the heels back into the room with him, carefully shutting the door behind him. He sits on the edge of the bed and bends down to put his feet into the shoes. He notes the label inside is in a language he cannot read – probably Italian. He wonders how long Hannibal had planning asking him to do this.

Unsteadily, Will stands and crosses back to the door, trying to get his bearings in the heels. He quickly learns how to accommodate and shift his weight to the balls of his feet instead of the heels. He is surprised at how easy he finds walking in these shoes. They make a satisfying click against the hardwood floor. Somehow, these red bottomed heels have given him more confidence in his appearance. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror before opening the door, and notices how defined his calf muscles look in this posture.

Hannibal gasps audibly when the door opens and Will is satisfied at the reaction he is receiving. He turns from the door and walks back to the bed, fully intending to give Hannibal a show. He sits on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other at the knee and rocking the top one. Hannibal is frozen in the doorway. He beckons to Hannibal with one finger.

“Lord...” he hears Hannibal whisper before crossing the room in quick, yet somehow still dignified, strides.

He takes Will's chin in his hands, and Will is lost in the kisses that Hannibal presses to his face. Kisses travel up and down his jawline, over each of his collarbones. Will throws his head back, curls bouncing, allowing himself to feel Hannibal's tongue against his skin and let the sensations stir something in his stomach.

“ _Gražus_.” Hannibal mutters in between kisses, into the soft skin of Will's stomach. “ _Gražus_.”

“What, Hannibal?” Will asks.

“Beautiful.” Hannibal explains, and suddenly his hands are all over Will, stroking and touching the thin lace over the cheeks of his ass. Will gasps at the strange sensation of the palms of Hannibal's hands hitting his skin through the tiny holes. “You look so perfect, darling.”

Will shivers as the whispered words travel up his spine. Hannibal leans his head down, and Will lays his hands on Hannibal's shoulders. Hannibal nips at Will's cock through the thin fabric, eliciting a groan from Will. Hannibal slides his fingers beneath the elastic at the bottom, reaching up just enough to brush the soft curls that tangle at the juncture of his legs. Will shifts forward into Hannibal's hands and Hannibal reaches down to snap the straps of the garter Will was wearing against both of his thighs at once. Will moans and jerks forward, silently begging Hannibal to touch him, to do  _ something. _

But Hannibal slides back for a moment to admire Will, while rubbing his hands up and down Will's fishnetted legs. A tender kiss on the inside of his knee, and Will hears Hannibal's hoarse whisper, “You are perfection. Beautiful in every way, my little lamb.”

Will squirms, flushing with the heat the words carried. “Hannibal,  _ please. _ ”

Hannibal wastes no time, reaching forward and sliding the panties down so they lay against Will's thighs, and his already hard and leaking cock lay on the taut fabric. Hannibal strokes down the entirety of Will's length a few times before taking him roughly in his mouth. Hannibal reaches down to cup one hand around Will's balls and Will's cock twitches in the wet cavern of Hannibal's mouth. Hannibal moans around it, the vibrations causing Will to reach down and latch onto Hannibal's hair.

Will's stomach tightens already and all he can feel is Hannibal's tongue teasing at his head, and his cheekbones pressing roughly against the tender skin of his thighs when Hannibal bobs forward to take him balls deep into his mouth. Will kicks his feet slightly, heels clattering against the floor.

“ _ Hannib-al...” _ His voice is a thin, drawn whine and he is coming down Hannibal's throat in seconds.

“So impeccable...” Hannibal's voice trails off, wiping the last of Will's seed from his lips.

Will reaches down, taking Hannibal's hand and drawing it to his mouth. He licks around the digit, the taste of himself mingling with the taste of Hannibal's mouth. Hannibal closes his eyes and moans, and Will can see his erection growing through the front of Hannibal's slacks.

“I have a surprise for you, too.” He breathes. Hannibal opens his eyes, confusion swimming in the maroon.

Will smirks and stands, still holding Hannibal's hand to his mouth. He drops Hannibal's arm, turning his back to the man. He laid himself forward on the bed, face in the duvet.

“Why do you think it took me so long to put these on for you?” Will asks, gesturing to the exposed flesh of his ass. “I'm ready for you.”

Hannibal places one hand against the cleft of Will's ass, the other undoing his pants in one fluid motion. Both hands on Will's ass now, rubbing softly.

“You are immaculate.” Hannibal whispers, before spreading Will's legs, listening to the skid of the heels against the wood, not worrying if they left a mark. He wastes no time lining himself up with Will's already open and weeping hole.

 


End file.
